Title: Forbidden 1/2
Warnings: Contains Giles very adult thoughts about an underage
Willow. Non-consensual but sensual.
Description: In the aftermath of S2, Giles deals with the shambles
his life has become. Willow is the one light in the darkness.
Notice: No profit will be gained from this story. These are Joss's
toys, I just like to play with them.
Rupert Giles was in hell.
Not literally, of course. An actual hell dimension would have been
preferable to his particular situation. At least the pain wouldn't
be emotional. At least he would stand a chance of escaping hell.
So much had changed in the past few months, adjusting to it all
nearly took his breath away. The Judge had come to town and with
him, he brought chaos. Spike and Drusilla were still a threat.
Then, Angel had turned against them all, returning to the fold and
embracing the vampire he'd been. Watching the vampire inflict petty
little cruelties on his Slayer had almost been too much to bear.
Then, Rupert had discovered what true pain was.
Jenny Calendar didn't exist. Not really. She'd been sent by the
Gypsies to "watch" Buffy. Jenny had lied to him, to all of them.
Even after all of it, Rupert had still loved her. She touched a
place inside him that no one ever had. Years of learning how to
keep his emotions in check had been no defense against Jenny
Calendar. She would always hold a place in his heart. It still
infuriated him though.
When he'd purchased her headstone, he couldn't even put her true
name on it.
Things had gotten worse from there. Kendra had been entrusted to
his care and she'd died on his watch. Watchers were supposed to
outlive their Slayers, this had been drilled into him by the
Council, yet it still seemed unnatural for someone so young and
beautiful to die such a brutal death.
But Rupert wasn't done yet, more horrors lay in store. Angel had
taken him and tortured him for hours. The time seemed to bleed
together. He felt like he'd been held at the mansion for days.
Rupert had crawled deep within himself, seeking the safety of his
own mind. But even that wasn't sacred. Drusilla had used her
powers to infiltrate his thoughts and debase the memory of the woman
Rupert felt for Buffy, he really did. Despite the fact that the
love of her life had tortured him and killed his love. He
empathized with her plight. Buffy had somehow managed to send
Angel to hell and close the portal, saving them all. But the cost
was far too high. Joyce Summers had found out her daughter's secret
and couldn't accept it. His Slayer couldn't go home and had fled
Now Rupert was left to guard the Hellmouth with the help of four
teenagers. While they were a plucky group who'd seen much in their
short lives, they were no Slayers. The biggest burden of all had
come to rest on Willow's slender shoulders.
After Xander had taken him from the mansion, Rupert was a shell of
the man he'd been. The torture had left him raw and exposed, not
just physically but emotionally. Giles hid himself in the sanctity
of his own apartment, ironically a place Angel had violated by
putting Jenny's body in his bed. Yet, he felt strangely secure
here, surrounded by his books and his Scotch.
Rupert hadn't been much help in those early days. Willow had been
forced to do the lion's share of both the researching and the
Slaying. While she didn't possess the preternatural strength or
skill of the Slayer, she was clever and resourceful.
She'd taken to lying traps for vamps in a few of their favorite
feeding grounds. She disguised an open grave with a thin layer of
netting and dirt and filled the empty hole with sharp stakes, buried
in the ground. Acting as bait, she lured vampires into the pit.
When he'd felt more like himself, he'd ventured into the library.
The hallways were empty, shuttered. Willow hadn't judged him for
retreating into himself, hadn't maligned him for shirking his
duties. She'd smiled at him quietly, handed over the Codex, and
brewed him a pot of tea.
Lovely girl, that Willow.
Rupert should have stopped there. He should have appreciated his
clever protégé , admired her intelligence and never thought more
about her. He should have remembered the fact that she was only
seventeen. Rupert should have focused on the fact that she was
naïve and desperate for male attention.
But something changed between them that summer.
Perhaps it was because Buffy was so notably absent. The Slayer
certainly seemed the fill every room she was in, with her witty
banter and bright smile. He often thought of her as the daughter
he'd never had. Possibly that fact had kept him in check, kept him
on the straight and narrow. Or perhaps it was because Xander and
his vapid girlfriend were so entranced with one another. They never
stayed along, eager be alone. More like they wanted to make out as
they ostensibly "patrolled" the graveyards. Even Willow's
boyfriend, Oz, was rarely seen. His band was on the road, touring
up and down the California coast.
Rupert was alone with Willow far too often.
It was in those humid days of summer that his thoughts of sweet,
young Willow turned from an almost fatherly affection to something
It was unseasonably warm. Every day had been over the hundred
degree mark. Senior citizens and children were ordered to not go
out in the heat of the day. Grocery stores were running out of ice
cream and popsicles. Most people spent their time at the pool or in
air conditioned malls and movie theaters.
In order to save money, Snyder had shut off air conditioning in the
building, except for his office, of course. School librarian was a
year round position, although he had generous vacation time in the
summer. Rupert was required to take inventory all of the books in
the school's collection this summer. He was also supposed to do all
of the ordering of textbooks for everyone's classes. While it took
a backseat to his Watcher duties, being a librarian was a
substantial time commitment.
Willow was seated at the big oak table, scrolling through websites
on the occult.
Rupert was trying his level best to focus on the algebra textbook in
his hands and not the fact that she was wearing practically nothing,
owing to the heat and her own comfort in him. Willow didn't see him
as a sexual being, she wasn't self conscious about her body with
She was in a black tank top with thin straps. Her hair was
gathered up on top of her head in a bun, leaving the pale expanse of
her neck revealed. She wore a pair of jeans riddled with holes,
giving enticing glimpses of pale skin. His hands tightened on the
spine of the book. Christ.
She was completely oblivious to his sexual need. How often had she
seen him turn from her, a book placed strategically over his lap?
How often had he "accidentally" brushed against her? Hadn't she
seen his eyes run over her?
"Giles, did you know that there's a spell to make artificial
sunshine? I could make it for Buffy." She was silent for a moment,
reality encroaching on her enthusiasm. "When she comes back, of
He cleared his throat, trying to remain calm. "She'll be back."
Rupert knew Buffy was only taking a break, just as he had done. The
demands of their callings sometimes made it necessary to escape, but
only for a time.
"I know. That's why I'm going to try this out, Giles." She started
copying down ingredients."
"I told you to call me Rupert." It irritated him that she put
distance between them by using his last name.
"Rupert," she corrected.
"Don't you think that's a bit, er, sophisticated for someone at your
level?" She was a neophyte witch and a spell of that magnitude
could be dangerous.
"You always worry too much. I'll be fine."
Rupert remembered that false sense of confidence, the need for
more. It's what propelled him to seek out blood dens and offer up
his virgin neck to a sleek brunette vampire. It's what lured him to
take Eyghon deep inside himself. In many ways, Willow was his
"Are we patrolling tonight?"
"Um, yes. Indeed." He tried to quiet the voice inside, the voice
that must belong to a perverted old man. The voice that insisted he
could probably talk her into some supper and maybe talk her into
coming back to his apartment with him. He wondered if he could talk
into her his bed. I'm turning into Humbert Humbert. "We need to do a
pass through Shady Acres. There've been some reports of PCP gangs in
"Why is PCP slang for vampires in this town?" Willow marveled. She
had a sports bottle with her, which she flipped open and sucked on,
dribbling water down her chin.
Was she trying to unman him? He turned away, clearing his
throat. "I suspect the populace would be more alarmed to learn
there are vampires."
Willow giggled. "Can you imagine them forming neighborhood watches?
Parading up and down Main St. with crosses?"
Rupert smiled ruefully. "I think Sunnydale would empty out
"Not Cordy's father. He never walks away from real estate." She
frowned. "Speaking of, should I invite Xand and Cordy tonight? Oz
is in L.A."
"No!" At her look, his expression softened. "I mean, that won't be
necessary. We're not looking for trouble, merely fighting off any
that comes to our attention. We'll just patrol Shady Acres tonight,
there's no reason to involve the two of them." Truthfully, he
wanted her all to himself. If he were a good man, he'd insist that
the boy and his selfish girlfriend come along if only to keep his
hormones in check. A scrupulous man wouldn't have a lust potion
tucked away in his back pocket.
She didn't question him. Willow trusted him. "Okay. Well, I'm
going to the magic shop to look for supplies. I'll see you around
"Right. Eight." He watched her walk away, his gaze feverish.
Rupert could stand it no longer. He was prepared to steal what she
wouldn't give to him.
They'd dispatched three vampires between the two of them. Of
course, their attempts were a far cry from the lethal grace a Slayer
possessed, but the vampires were still dead.
Willow wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a little
chilly in the night wind. "Are you hungry?"
And so it begins. "Starving," Rupert replied. "Why don't
you come home with me and I'll make us a bite to eat?"
Willow beamed at him. "Sounds good." She put her small
hand in his. "I miss Buffy but I'm glad I got to know you better
At his home, he sat her at the table and began making two
omelets on the griddle. Of course, he was going through the
motions. He couldn't taste food, not anymore. He couldn't even
think. Willow was his obsession.
Rupert dusted her mushroom omelet with the red lust powder,
which promptly blended in to the variety of spices he'd used. He
set her toast on the side of the plate and poured her a cup of tea.
They ate in what Willow must have presumed was companionable
silence. Inwardly, he was a morass of conflicting emotion: lust,
eagerness, guilt, pain. As each bite of food disappeared between her
lips, his tension grew. Any moment now she would be his.
Willow pressed a hand to her forehead. "I feel so strange."
His cock got hard at the words. "How so?"
"I don't know
warm, ache-y." Willow twisted in her
seat. "Do you think I'm coming down with something?"
"Perhaps," Rupert said, laying a hand on her brow. "You do
feel hot. Very hot." He cupped her face, his thumb seeking
entrance to her rosebud mouth.
Willow opened, taking the tip in. She looked up at him with
"Suck," Rupert asked, groaning as she obeyed him. He wanted
her to suck much more than his finger. Much more.
When he removed his thumb her mouth was slack and
wet. "What's happening to me?"
Rupert kissed her, entering her with a ferocity that
terrified even him. When he pulled away her eyes were dilated. Her
body was all too eager for him. "Forgive me, Willow, but I need
this. I need you." He kissed her forehead. "Don't you worry; when
I'm through I'll take your memory of this. It won't harm you."
With that pronouncement, Rupert gently removed her clothing
and carried her to his bed.